The Spanish Dubloons

First broadcast on January 21, 1960

Script by Spike Milligan
Produced by John Browell
Announced by Wallace Greenslade
Orchestra conducted by Wally Stott
Guest Appearance by Valentine Dyall

Milligan:
Anyone want to jump, folks?
Eccles:
[garbled] Aouh!
Seacombe:
[laughs]
Greenslade:
This is the BBC, and the colour is cream.
Secombe:
Ah, yes, Wal, the modern cream BBC! I remember the old days when it was brown.
Sellers:
Brown!
Omnes:
Brown! Brown! Brown ...
Greenslade:
Yes, the old brown BBC! Happy days...
Sellers:
Brown is better, it doesn't show the dirt.
Secombe:
Not in this show it doesn't, mate! [laughs] Back to your car, Sellers!
Sellers:
I say... Vroooom!
FX:
[Car sounds, honking]
Secombe:
And now folks of the world, here with a special goatskin microphone announcement, [gibberish]...
Greenslade:
Ladies and gentlemen...
Secombe:
[inaudible]
Greenslade:
...the brown BBC presents the Son of Fun, that old Welsh favorite: Ned, the Seagoon.
FX:
[cheering, singing]
Seagoon:
Stop! Stop!
FX:
[stops immediately]
Seagoon:
Thank you, fellow Welshmen.
Milligan:
Hello, Ned of Wales!
Segoon:
It's Milligan of Poona!
Milligan:
Ned of Wales, how's that old Welsh marriage? [inaudible]
Seagoon:
Me and the little woman are very happy, indeed. Aren't we, love?
Little Woman:
[fast voice] My darling,... [inaudible]
Milligan:
Tell me, what's the little woman's name?
Seagoon:
Ha ha! Hey, I call her simply...
FX:
[whistle and pop]
Spriggs:
What a tune that would make!
FX:
[horn plays pop goes the weasle]
Spriggs:
[inaudible] next dance please?
Seagoon:
[inaudible]
Voice:
Next dance, please.
Omnes:
[inaudible]
Greenslade:
[coming up under the gabbling] Desist this frivolous bandinage! Stop, I say, halt! Hold hard! Withhold, decease!
Seagoon:
Put your head on this anvil!
FX:
[Hammer hits metal.]
Greenslade:
Ahhowww!
Seagoon:
There we are. Let's see your old nut. Good havens, yes! Lumps suit you!
Sellers:
Yes, lumps. Ladies, do your husbands come home late? Then use...
FX:
[Hammer hits metal. High-pitched scream.]
Sellers:
l...umps. Next time you're at your ironmonger, just open your mouth and say... "Lumps."
Charlie (Seacombe):
Yes, I'm grateful to lumps. I had a hat that came down over my eyes, then one night my wife went...
FX:
[Hammer hits metal. High-pitched scream.]
Charlie:
Now, thanks to lumps, I have a clear view all the way round...
Greenslade:
Now, a word from our sponsor.
Sellers:
Drawers!
Greenslade:
Next week, another word.
Thespian (Sellers):
Tonight... Tonight, by the magic of hack writing and worn cliches, we drag you have a half across an hour to [inaudible] down and [gibberish]. Introducing the new brown BBC [shade?], but let the author tell you in his words.
Milligan:
[gabbles]
Thespian:
Those were his own words. Ned of Wales, read the inscription on this crippled mango called flan.
Seagoon:
Hello folks of the world! Hello folks of the world! This is Ned of Wales calling! [laughs] Ned of Wales speaking in the new goatskin microphone, folks! The scene is Nineteen Hundred and Hun, a lonely Sussex fishing village Cornwall!
FX:
[music]
Rough Seaman:
[over-acted] [inaudible] Oh, the Brown Cave, we call it. Tis somewhere in the cliff sides, overlooking the sea, my little beauty, arr har! The old smuggler's cave is right there. On a dark night they do say a ghostly voice -- ghostly voice, arrr! [inaudible] the smell of ghostly cooking [laughs] [suddenly calm] Excuse me, I've got to get back to the Mermaid Theatre, you know.
FX:
[burbling music, under:]
Moriarty:
Quel delicious, quel delicious!
Grytpype-Thynne:
What is that excruciating brew you're sipping with that boot, Moriarty?
Moriarty:
Ohh! Taste! Taste!
FX:
[prolonged slurp]
Grytpype-Thynne:
Gad, what is it?
Moriarty:
Your laundry! It's Fata de la Socks Supreme!
Grytpype-Thynne:
Gad, we Engish have never had it so good! [sings] Hey, what's for afters?
Moriarty:
She hasn't arrived yet.
Seagoon:
[off] Hello! In the absence of the door -- knock knock!
Grytpype-Thynne:
In the absence of a footman, come in!
Moriarty:
In the absence of a roof, hold this umbrella!
Seagoon:
Thank you, lad! Or, if you're French, Yakamakakakoo!
Omnes:
[several variations on] Yakamakakakoo! Yakabakabo!
Grytpype-Thynne:
Wait, wait, wait. You're Neddy Seagoon, the famous size.
Seagoon:
All lies! All lies, I tell you! I'm slimming! My pot belly's nearly gone! I mean, look, I-I-I can still touch my toes!
FX:
[cloth ripping]
Seagoon:
Let me tell you who I am. [dramatic] Ladies and gentlemen, I am... Ned Seagoon! Seagoon the Elephant Man.
Grytpype-Thynne:
Ah, you... you train elephants?
Seagoon:
No, they just call me "Seagoon the Elephant Man." Watch this!
Moriarty:
Stand back.
FX:
[drum roll under:]
Seagoon:
[as an animal trainer in the circus] Hup hey! Hoo-ha, ha hey! Hup ha-ha hey! Hup hah hey! [etc]
Grytpype-Thynne:
Splendid, Neddy, I didn't know you played the drums! You see...
Moriarty:
Arrrggghhh...
Grytpype-Thynne:
...this mess of rag stooping over that fuming pot? None other than the great Moriarty, trapeeze artist extraordinaire.
Seagoon:
Him? A trapeeze artist?
Grytpype-Thynne:
Yes! Moriarty, sketch a trapeeze.
Moriarty:
No, no, I, I... I haven't got the time.
Grytpype-Thynne:
Half-past three.
Moriarty:
Thank you.
Seagoon:
Look, I only came here to borrow a shovel. A-hem, I heard that during the Armada, a Spanish galleon went down off Brown Cove and at low tide you can dig for silver Spanish dubloons.
Moriarty:
Silver? Ahhh! Silver!
Grams:
[overlapping recordings of Moriarty yelling "Silver! Ahhh!". Runs down and stops]
Grytpype-Thynne:
That was the new sterophonic Moriarty.
Seagoon:
Is he ill?
Grytpype-Thynne:
No, but for a fee it could be arranged. For £100 he will contract lurgy. At present the poor Count is suffering from the Irish Krut. Here is a report on his health.
Seagoon:
This is a bank overdaft the statement.
Grytpype-Thynne:
Yes, a terrible disease.
Seagoon:
What's the cure?
Grytpype-Thynne:
Alas, we've run short of the opiate that will restore the roses to his knees. All that can save him, I fear [aside] the groan, Moriarty.
Moriarity:
Aoww...
Grytpype-Thynne:
...His only hope is a fabled spoonful of silver dubloons, three times a day, forced down his unwilling wallet. I fear he'll be dead by sun up, I tell you.
Seagoon:
No, no, now, wait, wait, wait, wait, I, I can try!
Grytpype-Thynne:
Here, then, take this tax-free shovel inscribed Charlie and dig, Neddy. If you find a few dubloons then the ailing son of the Comte of France will give untold riches to the salvator.
Seagoon:
Yes, yes, yes, yes [laughs] I'll get a French OBE and a Parisian Lord Tavenor's tie. Don't worry, I'll get the dubloons!
FX:
[whooshes off]
Greenslade:
That traditional BBC whoosh terminates part 1. We will now unpack Mr. Max Geldray's nose and let him feel the full benefit of it.
FX:
[honk]
Voice:
Oh, boy, look! I've got that old Dutch conk! Am I going to have fun!
Max Geldray and Orchestra
[Musical interlude]
Greenslade:
Part Ongy. The Spanish Dubloons. Ole! By the way, that "ole" was my own idea, I'm not entirely without wit.
Seagoon:
Ah, oh! Oh folks! Whew! I've been digging up dubloons for three weeks to save the French prince. The weather was bitter cold and the snow lay three feet on my feet.
Greenslade:
Now a phone call in blue.
FX:
[ring]
Seagoon:
Ah, the old-fashioned hand-cranked sea-shell phone. Hello! Hello!
Grytpype-Thynne:
Hello, Ned of Wales, Thynne of Paris speaking. You've heard of Paris...
Seagoon:
What does it sound like?
FX:
[music]
Moriarty:
[sings gibberish over music]
Seagoon:
Sounds foreign to me.
Grytpype-Thynne:
It's a French phone, Neddy. Ned, we want you to send the next load of silver dubloons care of the Yumka Hotel, Paris.
Seagoon:
Yumka? How do you spell it?
Grytpype-Thynne:
Y-M-C-A
Seagoon:
Right. I must say I'm worn down to an 18-stone shadow by digging, you know.
Grytpype-Thynne:
[snarls] You ungrateful 18-stone shadow! [calm again] Ned, look... where do you live?
Seagoon:
The basement of Bloodnok's military flats.
Grytpype-Thynne:
Right. You go home and I'll arrange a holiday with tax-free legs and... certain things.
FX:
[Major-style music. Simplteon playing piano throughout following exchange.]
Bannister:
Henry? Henry!
Crun:
Dear, dear. What is it, Min?
Bannister:
Is that you playing the... pianola?
Crun:
No, Min, no...
Bannister:
[babbles] The piano, ah...
Crun:
It's not me, it's the piano tuner
Bannister:
Oh... Phew! What's that tune he's paying?
Crun:
Pardon me, Mr. Prune, what is that tune you're playing?
FX:
[piano stops, crackling, breaking noises start]
Piano Tuner (Uncle Oscar):
Ahooohahhoh?
Crun:
What is that tune?
Tuner:
Ahoooohah... The note of E flat...
Crun:
It's called the...
Bannister:
[inaudible] What's it called?
Crun:
It's called "The Note in E Flat," Min.
Bannister:
It'll never be a hit with that title.
FX:
[piano resumes]
Bannister:
Ah! Oh! Is that you, Henry?
Crun:
No, no...
Bannister:
Hey, [inaudible]
Crun:
What? What's that? That is the piano, Min.
Bannister:
Piano?
Crun:
It's got wool on to keep a tune warm.
Ninnie:
I thought our piano was stollen.
Crun:
What?
Bannister:
Stooooolen!
Crun:
It was, Min! [to piano tuner] Pardon me, sir, I don't want to worry you but we haven't a piano. You're probably supposed to be tuning the one next door.
Tuner:
Ahhh... I am next door.
Crun:
Min!
Bannister:
Aoooh! What?
Crun:
We're in the wrong house again! [to piano tuner] Sir, we had a piano like that stolen. What colour's the keyboard?
Tuner:
Black and white.
Crun and Bannister:
It's ours! It's ours! Our piano! [babble] Aaaaaah, ting!
Greenslade:
Ta. Now, over to Bloodnock's room where the windows are never closed.
FX:
[bed sounds]
Bloodnok:
Oh, this bed! It's terrible!
Ellinga (Ellington):
Um, your breakfast, Major.
Bloodnok:
Breakfast? What year?
Ellinga:
The vintage, 53.
Bloodnok:
One of their finest years.
FX:
[door opens]
Blooknok:
Aaaaahoooh!
Seagoon:
Major Bloodnok! I saw a light in your window and a frown in the doorway, so I came in, glasses first.
Bloodnok:
Great news, Ned! Grytpype's paying you to go on holiday. Have you any warm clothes?
Seagoon:
No, but I can get some cold ones and put them in the oven.
Bloodnok:
Ah! Here are your tickets, lad.
Seagoon:
First class lift? Where am I going?
Bloodnok:
Up to the seventh floor, Ned, away from it all! You know, on a clear day you can see the clothes line opposite and Mrs Puge in the bath? [Laughs] Bye, Ned, bye. Elinga, go down and rifle his room with a rifle. Bye, lad.
Seagoon:
Gad, folks! Fancy a free trip to the 7th floor by first-class lift!
Upper-class Twit (Sellers):
Are you going far?
Seagoon:
7th floor.
Twit:
Oh. Penelope and I went there last year, didn't we, dear?
Penelope Twit (Milligan):
Yes, darling.
Twit:
Trouble is, it's full of people from the basement, wasn't it, dear?
Mrs. Twit:
Yes [inaudible]
Seagoon:
Is this the little woman?
Twit:
Yes, she's 2 foot 6.
Willium:
[announces floor inaudibly]
Twit:
[inaudible]
Willium:
...and all kinds of stewed fruits and mutton. Would you like a bit of stewed fruit and mutton?
Seagoon:
No, thank you, I brought my lunch, you know.
Twit:
[inaudible]
Willium:
[inaudible] Got your ticket right... Here, 'ang on. This ain't it, this ain't it... It says here your weight is 19 stones, 3 pounds!
Seagoon:
Give me that! It's all lies, I tell you! I'm slimming, I tell you! I've never been so light!
FX:
[elevator falls]
Willium:
Ground floor again...
Seagoon:
It wasn't [inaudible], I tell you! I'm as light as a feather!
FX:
[crashing sounds]
Seagoon:
Aaaaah!
Bloodnok:
Neddy! Welcome back to your old basement! Have a nice time? Did you have nice weather or haven't you washed? For the second part of your holiday... Ellington? Fire us up a coach and four and take Mr. Seagoon's parcel, in two!
Ellington:
[inaudible] Hey-oh, Silver [inaudible]
Seagoon:
Along the King's Highway we rumbled, our ducks at a full gallop. It was mid-January and, for the sake of the story, the coach was full of me and Ray Ellington.
Ray Ellington Quartet:
[Musical interlude]
Bluebottle:
Thank you. For my next impression...
FX:
[splosh on face]
Bluebottle:
Aieeee!
Greenslade:
Now, The Spanish Dubloons, part the hair. The stage coach.
Ellington:
Gee-up! Whooooooaaaaa! Fat [inaudible]
Seagoon:
What's the matter, driver? Why have we stopped?
Ellington:
One of the horses got a puncture.
Seagoon:
Which one?
Eccles:
Me.
Seagoon:
What are you doing as a horse?
Eccles:
I've gotta make a living, too.
Seagoon:
But you look frozen!
Eccles:
I'm an ice-Eccles [laughs]. Okay, you win folks. I like doing impressions of horses. That's my hobby.
Bluebottle:
Yeah, he's a hobby horse, hee-hee!
FX:
[splosh again]
Eccles:
Oh, exactly right [inaudible]
Bluebottle:
I never said nothing...
Eccles:
Oh...
Seagoon:
Look! Over there in Part 3! An old manor! I wonder who lives in it?
FX:
[scary old manor-type music & screams]
Dyall:
A-ha! There is a coach from Part 2 stopped outside.
FX:
[owl hoots once]
Dyall:
Hark! The hoot of an owl. She only gives one. Obviously she doesn't give two hoots! Ha ha ha!
Grams:
[diabolical laughter]
Dyall:
Ah ha ha! They don't write tunes like that anymore!
FX:
[door bell]
Dyall:
Open the door!
Servant:
All right, sir...
FX:
[Door approached and broken open laboriously]
Dyall:
You forgot the key, didn't you?
Seagoon:
Ah! Good evening!
Dyall:
You ought to know, you're outside.
Seagoon:
You're inside, in the warm.
Dyall:
It seems a pretty healthy arrangement. Here's half a nicker.
Seagoon:
Gad, a wooden leg!
Bluebottle:
I don't like this man...
Seagoon:
I don't like him, either.
Eccles:
I don't like him, too.
Dyall:
How do you think I feel!? I happen to be him!
Seagoon:
Look here, our story has broken dowm and we're stuck for lodgings.
Dyall:
You certainly are. What you want, bed and breakfast?
Seagoon:
Yes, please.
Dyall:
I'll leave it outside. In the garden.
Seagoon:
Can we have shelter?
Dyall:
Very well, come in. Wipe your feet -- and your boots!
Eccles:
[inaudible] Hello.
Dyall:
[sotto voce] Gad, what a beautiful woman!
Eccles:
Get away from me, you naughty man!
Dyall:
You're the living image of my first, second, third, fourth and fifth wives!
Eccles:
Yer... I do impressions.
Dyall:
Ha-ha! You joking devil...
Eccles:
[laughs as though tickled].
Dyall:
Come, let's all sit round the fire! My name is Count Valentine Dyall. I have one boy.
Eccles:
That must be your son-Dyall! [laughs]
Bluebottle:
Well done, Eccles! You're toppng them all away! Hooray for [gerkins?].
Eccles:
[gerkins?]?
Dyall:
Yes, my son-Dyall's a strange boy. He spends all his life collecting the silver milk bottle tops. Sacks of them. He takes them away, heaven knows where, and buries them.
Seagoon:
There goes the plot, folks!
Dyall:
For years he lived in South America on safari. For months he was trapped in the Amazon!
Seagoon:
Couldn't he get the door open?
Dyall:
No! He was collecting rare South American pianos for the zoo. This one is stuffed! Let me... let me let you hear the exotic, stuffed beauty of it.
FX:
[muted piano plays Moonlight Sonata as Dyall sings diabolically]
Dyall:
There, that mellow, exotic, delicate, beautifully played Peruvian melody. I composed it especially for myself.
Seagoon:
What do you call it?
Dyall:
I call it... "Fred"! [manic laugh, under:]
Seagoon:
Suddenly, Count Dyall's face took on a maniacal aspect. He advanced on us, laughing insanely. Look out! He's got a knife! Eccles!
Bluebottle:
And a fork!
Eccles:
And a spoon!
Bluebottle:
He's going to eat you, Neddy!
Seagoon:
What? I'm off!
Dyall:
And so, folks, because Neddy was off, I didn't eat him.
Bloodnok:
Don't you worry, folks, better pay offs are being arranged at this very moment.
Greenslade:
This story started with silver dubloons. Let us join Thynne as he dines at the Hotel Splendide...
FX:
[Pigs at trough, ballroom music]
Grytpype-Thynne:
Mmm! An excellent meal, Moriarty.
Moriarty:
Why do you keep me chained under the table?
Grytpype-Thynne:
Waiter, the bill.
Waiter (Greenslade):
Oui, monsier. It is 10,000 francs in French.
Grytpype-Thynne:
Will these silver Spanish dubloons suffice?
FX:
[Pours out bag full]
Waiter:
These are milk bottle tops.
Grytpype-Thynne:
Curse! Foiled by filk mottle bops!
Orchstra:
[Ta daaaah chord]
Greenslade:
There now, folks. That didn't hurt, did it? Incidently, I played the part of the French waiter. Good night.
Orchestra:
[end music; no end credits]